Deader Still

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Deader Still Page 29

by Jordaina Sydney Robinson


  “I’m really sorry, Tommy,” I said with an apologetic grimace as we backed out of the room.

  Sabrina closed the door behind us and I wandered across the stage while she used her magic metal prongs to lock it. I frowned at the bricked-up emergency exit on the far side of the hall.

  “What are you shaking your head at?” Sabrina asked as she caught up and we climbed down from the stage and headed towards the double doors.

  “Who bricks up a fire escape?”

  Sabrina threw a quick glance over her shoulder at what would’ve been a very handy escape. “Idiots.”

  “Uh-huh.” I held the door open for her and we stepped cautiously into the corridor. “So how are we getting out of here?” I asked.

  “I was thinking we’d try tunnelling from that little garden space. If that didn’t work, we’d hammer on the glass doors in reception until they broke,” Sabrina said. “If the killer is still here, and isn’t one of those three we’ve just tied up, then they’ll hear the noise and maybe come to see what’s happening.”

  I nodded. “Ah, yes, the well-known and always foolproof call-the-murderer-to-us-as-a-means-of-escaping plan.”

  “Yes, because I’d rather have the murderer where I can see them and I’m assuming they’re going to have a way out.”

  “Oh.” I adjusted my fringe. “When you say it like that, it actually does seem quite logical.”

  “Doesn’t it?” she asked, with an expression that told me to be quiet. She pulled a folded up piece of card from her pocket. “If both of those fail, I thought maybe we could try tunnelling again from different points of the building.” Sabrina opened up the card to reveal a fire evacuation plan of the building.

  “Where did you get that from?”

  “Took it from above the fire alarm in the hall when I got here this morning,” Sabrina said and pointed the corner of the plan at me. “I’ve told you, you always need to have an escape strategy. You need to start listening to me.”

  “I do listen to you,” I said. “That’s why I’m always in trouble.”

  She grinned, obviously taking that as a compliment. “So, I thought the blocking might be weaker in places like here or here,” Sabrina said as she pointed to two different areas of the building. “I think they might be chimneys.”

  I looked at the plan. “Yeah, this building used to be …” I paused as a deluge of high school memories washed over me and I fished out the one that just happened to be useful.

  Sabrina turned to me with an expectant expression. “Used to be what?”

  “Tunnels.”

  “This building used to be tunnels?”

  “No. There are tunnels. Underneath the school.” I turned in a circle, trying to get my bearings and so I could work out in which direction the fort was. “They originate at the fort and spread out under the town all the way to the coast.”

  Sabrina interrupted my slow spin and turned me to face her. “And you’re just remembering this incredibly helpful information now?”

  “Well, gee, I’ve not been back here for ten years, so I’m sorry if I’ve forgotten all the tiny nuances of my old high school.”

  “This is hardly a nuance.” Sabrina glanced along the corridor in both directions. “If they run under the school they’d have to keep access points. They’d need to be inspected annually for structural maintenance. Do you know where the access points are?” Sabrina scanned the plan. “I can’t see them on here.”

  “Umm … reception. There should be one in reception somewhere.”

  Sabrina narrowed her eyes at me. “Is this going to be a repeat of ‘the church is this way’?”

  “Hey.” I jabbed my finger in her direction. “If you hadn’t been so worried about badger rabies we’d have made it through the woods and to the church without being held at gunpoint.”

  “Ohhh, so being threatened at gunpoint is my fault now?” Sabrina said as we headed towards the reception area, both of us taking care to fully survey our side of the corridor for any murderer we might not have incapacitated. “And there was me thinking it was the fault of the people pointing the guns at us. And badgers—”

  “Bite.” I held up a hand in her direction. “Yes, I know. I think we’re all clear on that point.”

  Sabrina veered to the left of the reception area to check behind the desk and potted plants and I took the right-hand side.

  “Do you remember what it looks like?” Sabrina asked, still scanning the carpet as she came out from behind the desk.

  “Rectangularly squarish.”

  “Wait, you mean it’s not in the shape of a star?”

  “No.” I stopped my search and turned to Sabrina. “Why? What does that mean? Is that bad?”

  Sabrina interrupted her scan of the area to look up at me. “It means you’re an idiot.”

  “What? Why?” I asked, moving a visitor’s chair out of the way.

  “Obviously, it’s going to be square or rectangular. I meant is it marked on the floor in some way so we can identify it? Like with a different colour carpet tile or something?”

  “Oh, okay, but that’s not what you said.” I tapped my foot on the floor. “And I’ve found it.”

  It didn’t look like much. The oblong grey frame was roughly a metre long and half a metre wide, and stood out against the ghastly durable beige fuzz that carpeted the rest of the reception. A small metal loop rested in a groove at one end. I hooked my fingers through it and pulled. It was heavier than expected. Sabrina grabbed the edge of it and we dragged it to the side and out of our way.

  Sabrina peered inside the black hole and then looked back to me. “Seriously? Down there?”

  “What?” I glanced down the access chute to check she wasn’t looking at something I hadn’t seen. “It’s dark. So what? What’s the problem? Are you are afraid of that too?”

  Sabrina faced me. “No. I am not afraid of the dark. I’m afraid of what could be waiting for us in the dark.”

  “Like what? I don’t think badgers are really tunnel-dwelling animals.”

  Sabrina stared at me. “Badgers live in setts. Setts are a network of tunnels.”

  “I meant these type of tunnels. Man-made tunnels.”

  “Okay, but that’s not what you said.”

  “Shut up,” I said, trying not to pout at her.

  “What’s up with your comebacks?”

  “I’m having a stressful time of late, stop judging me.”

  Sabrina grinned at me before she peered into the blackness again. “Who else would know about these tunnels?”

  I shrugged. “Anyone who grew up here. Anyone who went to school here. Anyone interested in history. Probably anyone who’s visited here because—”

  “So this is fairly common knowledge?”

  I shrugged again. “Yeah, if you’re into that stuff, I guess. Why?”

  “Can you remember where the other access hatches are? Do all the tunnels connect?”

  “Can I think about it and tell you as we get out of here?” I asked, motioning for her to get into the hole.

  Sabrina took a step back from the hatch. “You realise we haven’t worked out who the killer is yet? They could be down there waiting for us.”

  “Or they could be up here waiting for us.” I pointed back up the corridor. “Or we could have already tied them up.” Sabrina didn’t say anything, she just folded her arms and waited. I sighed, rubbed my forehead, and adjusted my fringe. “Okay, I think there are a couple in the science building, one either end of the other humanities department, and another in …”

  “In what?” Sabrina asked.

  “The drama studio.” I turned to Sabrina. “I know who the killer is.”

  “Who?”

  I shook my head. “No, that can’t be right because she’s dead. Unless she’s not dead.”

  “Nancy? It was Nancy?” Sabrina snapped her fingers and pointed to me. “I knew it!”

  I shook my head. “Hannah. But that head wound looked pretty real.”


  “What motive would Hannah have?”

  “What if we’ve been looking at this wrong? We thought this was about the assessment. That Watson was the main target and the others were camouflage or collateral damage.”

  Sabrina nodded. “Because Watson was the first victim and so many people wanted to kill her she would automatically be the main victim. Any later deaths would be attributed to having seen something or know something to identify her killer.”

  I nodded back at her. “Hiding the real intended victim of Gracie.”

  “What? Gracie? Why would Hannah …” Sabrina’s attention focused inwards while she worked it through. “Ohhh … Hannah was Matthew’s girlfriend. That was the relationship Gracie reported on.”

  “Yes,” I agreed with another nod that turned into a head shake. “No.”

  “She wasn’t his girlfriend?” Sabrina asked. “Or Gracie didn’t report it?”

  “No, Hannah was, and Gracie did, but how would they know it was Gracie? You said the informing scheme thing was confidential.”

  “Maybe Hannah worked it out.” Sabrina suggested. “She seemed smarter than Matthew.”

  “And then Hannah told Matthew who had informed on them,” I said.

  “Okay.” Sabrina tightened her ponytail and frowned at the ground as if staring at something plain would help her work it through. “So, Hannah killed Watson, then Matthew killed Gracie—”

  “No, Hannah would’ve had to kill Gracie. The killer would’ve needed your night vision goggles and the kitchen knife. It would’ve been difficult for Matthew to hide those from the other leaders,” I said and pulled at my jumpsuit to demonstrate that, despite its ghastly tailoring, there were no real opportunities to hide stuff in it.

  “So … then Matthew killed Jenny because she worked it out,” Sabrina suggested. “Or maybe they killed her together. And Nancy for the same reason.”

  “Right.” I pointed to Sabrina. “And Hannah knocked Matthew out so he wouldn’t be a suspect and faked her death because …” I gestured for her to complete my sentence but she shook her head at me. I threw my hands up. “Well, I’ve got nothing. I have no clue what the purpose of that could be.”

  “She’s planning to disappear?” Sabrina said and then pursed her lips and toed the carpet at the edge of the black hole that was our escape. Our escape that, for some foolish reason, we weren’t climbing into and using to run to safety.

  “But why fake her death? That’s completely pointless because her body will be gone, which will raise questions. Unless she’s assuming we’ll assume the killer has taken it. But why would she assume that?” I blew out a breath and smoothed my jumpsuit over. “Or unless we weren’t meant to find her body. Maybe we interrupted her killing Nancy and she covered by pretending she was dead.”

  Sabrina flopped down into one of the visitor’s chairs. “Or maybe she really is dead and Matthew killed her.”

  “Why would he kill her?” I asked, sitting on the arm of the other visitor’s chair since it looked like our escape was temporarily on hold. “Even if he tried to blame the murders on her, the police will still be looking for who murdered her, so he’s not off the hook. It’s not like he could claim self-defence either because we were all together when we told him she was dead. Not to mention the fact he didn’t seem all that broken up over her death. Unless he was faking it. And, if we’re using the theory that they were killing everyone out of revenge for breaking them up, then why would Matthew kill her?”

  “Why would they kill anyone at all?” Sabrina said. “All they had to do was wait for another couple of years and then they could apply for a licence and legally date. Or they could’ve just been sneakier.” Sabrina massaged her temples. “Are we sure this is the motive? This just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Well, she is killing people, so she’s clearly crazy,” I said. “Maybe it makes crazy sense to her. Or maybe Matthew tricked her into killing everyone so he could pass this assessment.”

  Sabrina paused mid-temple rub. “I seriously doubt Matthew is smart enough for that but, for argument’s sake, let’s say he is. Then who hit him over the head?”

  “Maybe no one. Maybe he faked that too.”

  “But why would he fake it?” Sabrina said.

  “I don’t know. I’m an event planner, not a detective. And, right now, I don’t care anymore,” I said, adjusting my fringe for the millionth time. My hair was going to start falling out if I kept it up. “Let’s just climb into our hole and trudge to safety. We can call the police and GBs and let them deal with this. Let’s just get out of here and get a cup of tea.”

  Sabrina frowned at me. “How do you call the police?”

  I opened my mouth to explain and then realised I didn’t know. “I never needed to, they usually just stalk me.”

  Sabrina snorted and glanced back up the corridor. “You know we need to check she’s really dead.”

  “Can’t we just leave?” I asked, pointing into the welcoming black hole at our feet. “It’s not like we can definitively tell if she’s dead anyway. And we can hypothesise all the way to safety.”

  “You want to leave without working out what’s happened?” Sabrina asked.

  I nodded vehemently. “Yeah.”

  Before Sabrina could talk me into staying, I stood and peered into the rectangular blackness to see if there was a ladder to climb down.

  “Really?” Sabrina sounded so disappointed. “You’re just going to leave and let someone else work it out?”

  “No, I’m going to leave and live to complain about another day,” I said while testing the first rung of the ladder. It seemed sturdy enough. When Sabrina didn’t respond I glanced up to find her scowling at me. I climbed down another rung. “Okay. Look, even if we could prove that Hannah’s really dead, which we can’t, then that still doesn’t tell us who the murderer is and why they’re killing everybody. I didn’t see a handy explanation scrawled on the toilet mirror in soap.”

  Sabrina pursed her lips. “But I hate not knowing.”

  “Life’s hard,” I nodded, climbing down another couple of rungs until I was waist deep in the darkness. Freedom was so close. “Are you coming?”

  “Please?” she asked.

  I glanced up into Sabrina’s pleading expression. It was my downfall. This whole dying thing had made me soft. In life, I wouldn’t even have waited for her, let alone discussed it – I’d have just been off. Then again, I hadn’t had a friend like Sabrina in life. Sighing heavily, I climbed back up.

  “Fine, but if she kills us I’m going to be so mad at you.”

  “Then prepare to be mad,” said a nasally voice from behind us.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sabrina whirled around and jabbed a finger in Hannah’s direction. “I knew it! I knew you were faking.”

  Hannah’s face was eerily devoid of expression as she stared at Sabrina. “Yes, you’re very smart. Congratulations.”

  “Nice log,” Sabrina said and nodded to the length of wood Hannah was swinging as though she were playing rounders. “Do you just carry it around with you in case of homicidal emergencies?”

  Hannah swung the log again, this time making a noise to imply she’d hit an imaginary ball. Or head. “It’s just for dramatic flair.”

  Hannah swung the log for the third time and let go. It flew across the reception area, spinning like a horizontal cartwheel, towards the glass doors. I watched it in the ridiculous hope that it might somehow hit the doors in the perfect spot and shatter them so we could sprint to freedom. Or to the foyer. Obviously, that didn’t happen. It bounced off and hit the carpeted floor with a muted thud. When I turned back, Hannah had a gun aimed in our direction.

  “I liked your log better. Any chance you could go back to that?” I asked. She was crazy. It might work. I much preferred our chances against a log than a gun.

  “Sorry.” Hannah shook her head.

  “How come everyone else got the log and we get the gun?” I asked Sabrina. “That see
ms a little unfair to me.”

  “You’re complaining about which weapon she’s going to use to kill us?” Sabrina asked me. “And you’d prefer to be beaten to death with a log than a quick bullet to the heart?”

  I inclined my head. “When you put it like that …”

  Sabrina turned back to Hannah. “But since we are discussing murder weapons, I’d like to know where all of you crazy people are getting these guns from.”

  Hannah relaxed back against the reception desk, gun still pointing at us. “You request them through your parole officer.”

  “You what?” Sabrina turned her head to the side as though she’d misheard and was angling her good ear towards Hannah. “You do what?”

  “She’s kidding,” I said and slapped Sabrina’s bicep with the back of my hand before turning to Hannah. “You are, right?”

  Hannah gave a one-shoulder shrug.

  Sabrina shook her head. “I don’t think she is.”

  “She better be kidding because if she can get a gun when I can’t even get knickers then there are some serious flaws in this whole parole officer/guardian angel situation.”

  “Yes,” Sabrina said, her tone flat. “Your lack of clothing is where the flaws are in this system.”

  “Well, it feels likes a pretty big flaw to me!” I snapped back and lifted up my foot. “Have you seen these shoes? Oz could’ve chosen any, but he chose these. These!”

  “What’s wrong with them?” Sabrina asked, sparing a quick glance at my Toms. “They look practical to me.”

  “Practicality doesn’t negate prettiness.”

  Hannah whistled to get our attention. “Excuse me.” She waggled the gun at us. “As fascinating as this is, I’d appreciate it if you’d back away from the hatch now.”

  Sabrina glanced down at the hatch then up at me. I shook my head subtly. No, I was not going to jump blindly into the oblong of blackness. We wouldn’t be able to fit at the same time and I didn’t know how far down it was to the tunnel floor.

  “Please don’t,” Hannah said. “If you try that I’ll have to shoot you.”

  “Aren’t you going to shoot us anyway?” Sabrina asked.

 

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